All Over Again
by apoplectic
Summary: Hermione is involved in a time-turner accident, and is transported backwards in time to 1969, where she is adopted by the Evans family. She has to live her life all over again - will she make decisions that will alter the future? Long summers, days spent wandering in fields - we watch her life go by. Incomplete - this is a tentative Severus/Hermione in the works.
1. Meet the Parents

**Note: This is a new story that I started to document what Hermione's life might have been like if she was to be transported back to the time of the Marauders. It's a tale of friendship and family and romance. Please review and subscribe! I will try to update every two days at least. **

Hermione Granger's eyes broke open what sleep had encrusted over the world. It was a Spartan room, an obvious attempt made to distract from its lack of heart with a thick, fluffy blossom-spotted duvet under which she was hidden. _Shit_, Hermione thought, _that experiment was a __huge__ mistake_.

Hermione had been working with the Ministry in an investigation of the potential of time-turners to save lives that had been lost before Voldemort's demise, and reunite broken families that had had family members killed or permanently injured as a result of Voldemort's campaign for complete control over the Wizarding World. Weeks and weeks were spent evacuating casualties from locations that they knew would be attacked by the Death Eaters. She had to be careful not to alter time too much, though, because that would have, obviously, had an effect on the Final Battle and might have ruined the outcome. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly-instated Minister for Magic, had been highly supportive of the investigation, but the paltry results led him to demand that further actions be taken to save more lives.

And so, Hermione was assigned to a research laboratory where temporal experiments were to be conducted to identify what the problem was with their operation, and why it had not worked to perfection. The last thing she remembered was picking up a chart that showed how far backwards the operatives had been travelling, the furthest had been only one year into the past. _That wasn't enough_, Hermione thought, _because the Second Wizarding War began in 1995 – this was 1998, and there were many more people to be saved if they travelled further back_. The operatives were still confined to the used of time-turners, as a more practical and accurate form of time travel had not yet been discovered. Hermione picked up her wand and turned the dull golden hourglass. She had to concentrate – every turn would be an hour travelled backwards, and losing focus might entail disastrous results. She calculated the turns needed to travel three years back in time, and kept her eye on the whirring object before her, which was spinning so fast it had morphed into a rusty blur. By her count, she was already two and a half years back, just a bit more and it-

"Granger!"

A sonorous voice thundered into the room. Hermione swivelled her head around – her first mistake – and glanced at Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had entered to check on the investigation's progress. The abruptness of the voice caused her second mistake – dropping her wand. The minister immediately knew that he had interrupted something very important, as he watched the time-turner gain speed and tornado at the moment of Hermione's loss of control. How many years were passing by? Hermione knew that she had forever been sucked into history, the only thing she could do now was stop the spinning.

"Finite!" – and everything went black.

A soft, kind-faced man stepped into the room that she had woken up in. He was holding a tea tray, on which sat a steaming mug of Bovril and a plate of chocolate biscuits. Hermione turned towards him, with a quizzical expression on her face. "What year is this? Where am I? Who are you?" The man looked at her like a child would at an insect crawling on a hot concrete pavement. "Are you alright, love?" His voice was muffled by nature.

"Please, just answer me. Please." Hermione was begging to know how far back she had gone. The man seemed to understand her sense of bewilderment.

"It is the 6th of December, 1969, you are in my home in Cokeworth. This is our spare room. I'm Charles Evans. Don't be alarmed. My daughter found you unconscious in the middle of the street last night, right in front of our house. Pray tell, how did you get there?"

"Your daughter?"

"Lily. Lily Evans. My family's downstairs, we're spending the day in. Would you like to meet them?" Charles set the tea tray down on the bedside table, and gestured for Hermione to pick up the drink. Hermione did so and the warmth seeped into her bones and gave way to energy that she had never known, as if she had been asleep for years. As she followed the Evans father down the stairs, she could not help looking into a big brass mirror in the corridor. Hermione stopped short at her reflection.

She was a child. A nine year old child. Short, hay-coloured brown hair that ended just below her chin, a small snubbed nose spattered with freckles, wide-spaced, slanty cat-like sea-green eyes. Hermione no longer had hips or breasts, and her drastic shrinkage into a skinny elfin girl caught her by surprise.

"Something wrong, love?" The muffled voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

"…No. Not at all. Coming."

Hermione passed her hand along the balustrade, and made her way into the living room. It was a lively, wallpapered and tartan-cushion-covered affair. Three females sat on a couch, watching the television. One was about her current age – nine, that is – another was about a year old, and one was a curvy, fully-grown woman – Mrs Evans, evidently.

"Daddy, the Rolling Stones are on TV!" the youngest girl piped up.

"And the Soviets are testing their nukes again…" sighed the older one.

"She's down!" cried the mother with a youthful glee. "How are you, my dear girl? I'm Elizabeth Evans, and it's very nice to meet you. How in the world did you end up in the street?"

Hermione knew she had to come up with a cover story. The Evans… could this family be Harry's mother's? If so, this would be a good place to stay and grow up while she figured out what she was to do with her new life. "My name is Hermione. I… I ran away from the orphanage. They wouldn't feed me, and I was so hungry... So I escaped to find food."

"Good god!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "We can't let her go back there. Charles, we can't possibly let her go back there! They're not feeding her – look at those bones!"

Charles glanced at the sorry sight that Hermione was. "Alright, dear, family discussion. Hermione, would you mind waiting in the kitchen while we mull this over for a bit?" Hermione nodded, heading off into the adjoining room, and sat on a tall stool at the counter, awaiting her fate. She tried to ignore the mutter coming from the living room, and instead directed her focus towards solving her conundrum. She had already lived nineteen years and now she was to live even more of them. Would it be better to accept the situation or struggle to get back to the future? Hermione leaned her head back and peered into the living room. Her eyes met with those of Lily, who she presumed was the youngest one. Lily smiled compassionately as the rest of her family was engaged in the heated discussion, convincing Hermione of what to do.

"Hermione, come back here for a minute, will you?" Elizabeth's motherly voice rang out. Hermione's head emerged from the kitchen. "We've made a decision. We've always wanted a third child. Would you like to live here with us?"

"We'll settle all the governmental matters, dear. Just say the word, and you're part of the Evans Family." Charles chimed in.

"Yes. Yes! I'd like that very much." Hermione was glad to be accepted by the new family. Of course she would miss the Grangers, but what's done was done, and it was time to move on. She moved tremulously towards the family on the couch, and they shifted apart to leave a space for her to sit down.

The Rolling Stones were on the television, headlining at the Altamont Speedway in California. They had just kicked into Sympathy for the Devil. The Evans were a fairly liberal family, and they and their children watched as Mick Jagger swaggered onstage. Hermione's head was swimming. She knew what was about to happen. Some black kid was about to be stabbed and attacked at this concert. It had gone down in history. It was alarmingly strange to be able to foresee the future.

And like clockwork, she watched on television as Meredith Taylor, the 18 year old African American was being stabbed to death by Alan Passaro, a member of the Hells Angels. From that moment, she knew that nothing was going to be the same again.


	2. Encounters

It took Hermione a while to get used to her new body. Cupboards were out of her reach. Alcohol was forbidden, and unnecessary anyway. It was, however, comforting to not have responsibilities any more. All the times she had cursed her overachieving nature, she wished that she was a kid again, and here she was, having somebody do her laundry and cook her meals. All she had to remember was to keep calm and take it slowly.

It was the morning after she had found herself trapped in this child – Charles and Elizabeth were off to register Hermione for primary school – god, she couldn't believe she was to sit through that again. Lily poked her head in through the door.

"Hermione, Tuney's just woken up and she said it'd be a good idea to introduce you to the house. What do you say?"

Hermione was enchanted by the little girl. She was full of the kindness that she had seen the day before in her father. She decided that it was going to be nice to live with her. It would be just like having a room-mate – Hermione had only ever lived with Ron, and even then there was little communication past the honeymoon stage. He was more like an animal who she cleaned up after. Hermione smiled at Lily, "I'd love to". The two girls, little nymphets, naturally, moved with ease and grace to Petunia Evans' room, where a brunette grasshopper of a girl sat with her legs crossed on the bed. Her face resembled a middle-aged schoolmistress.

"Hermione… Evans." Petunia tested the waters with a contrived, deep voice, like she was mimicking a dictator. Hermione giggled. Petunia seemed to be trying to start an initiation of some sorts, the kind that was carried out in colleges as a form of hazing, but Petunia's appearance did not allow Hermione to take her seriously. "You have been chosen to be accepted into this family… But first, there are going to be some rules which you have to obey."

"Tuney, stop faffing around!" Lily stifled a laugh as well.

"One, I am the mastermind behind this charade we call the Evans Family." The grasshopper spoke as if she was in a trance.

Hermione was curious. Here Petunia seemed to have a sense of humour, of sorts, a little dark, but it was clear that she loved Lily nonetheless. Why then, the harsh treatment in the future? Why had she been so hostile towards Harry? Could the hostility only have been born after Lily's magical powers appeared? Perhaps Petunia was not yet aware of what Lily and Hermione were capable. Soon enough. She would know soon enough.

"Oh come on, do you want to show Hermione around or not?" Lily nudged Petunia out of her trance. She dragged her sister off the bed and grabbed hold of both girls' wrists. "We have to show her the river!" Lily squeaked with barely repressible excitement. Her green eyes glowed with possibility. Petunia agreed to go along, a little bruised at having her initiation interrupted but otherwise unruffled. They rushed out of the house, Petunia remembering to lock up after them, and headed around to the back.

The Evans house had creamy white clapboards and a red door – solitary, circled by a yard at least a dozen metres in radius. The neighbours had much space to breathe. The gravelled road to the front of the house stretched on for a mile, and ended at Spinner's End, where ghastly terraces loomed like basalt spires, and black-robed panhandlers moped around, Firewhisky on their breaths.

The frosted, dead ground behind the house sloped down, and ended at a riverbank, flanked by grand willow trees. The three girls skidded down the slope, where the frozen river lay like a crystal snake, streaming towards Spinner's End. The ice was thick enough to walk on, and in the distance, a figure was doing so. Hermione wondered aloud who that was, and her question was answered soon enough.

"SEVERUS! SEVERUS SNAPE!" Lily cupped her hands and alerted the figure of their presence.

"God, not that beggar again." Petunia sighed, and shivered. The girls had been unprepared for the cold spell, and were standing by the river in shorts and miniature Birkenstock knockoffs. Petunia was the only one with black-painted toenails, which contrasted starkly with the pale ground.

Severus was surprised to see three girls instead of the usual one, or two. He approached them with caution, like prey to an unconscious predator, unsure whether or not it might just rile up and strike. He was wearing a heavy black overcoat, and was extremely strange-looking for a boy of nine. He had an aquiline nose and long hair, like a raven, and was pale as the snow – which had a rather surreal effect, for it was the face of an adult on the body of a child. He was a face that one would grow to love, if you gave him enough time and attached the suitable character to it, hence Petunia's unimpressed sneer. "You look like a world-class flasher, Snape."

"No one asked you to be here, Evans." Severus had clearly been bullied before, and was fairly nonplussed at the older Evans' insolence. Hermione could see the beginning of the word '_cunt_' forming on his lips.

"Oh come on, Severus, Petunia, can't the both of you just get," Lily pulled Petunia close to her, "along?" and then Severus, so that the three of them were held in one awkward embrace. She was brimming with misguided optimism, and Hermione giggled at Lily's attempt to force everyone to be friends.

Petunia wriggled free. "This is _such__ bullshit_!" She started up the hill and headed back to the white house.

At her departure, Severus looked almost relieved. He turned towards Hermione, and seemed to be afraid that she would take Petunia's place as his antagonist. "Who are you?"

Lily stepped in, hoping to start off the relationship with enthusiasm. "This is Hermione, we found her lying in the street because she was hungry and she ran away from the orphanage so now we're her family and mum and dad went to enrol her in school" She released this charming synopsis with one great breath, wheezing at the end with overwhelmingly good cheer. Severus smiled tersely. He seemed as if he wanted to laugh, but couldn't.

"It's nice to meet you."

"You, too. Where do you live? Are you our neighbour?" Hermione tried to put aside whatever animosity she had had for her scaled-down potions _master _and resolved to take an active interest in him. Surely life hadn't hardened him into a soulless sadist yet?

Severus looked embarrassed, as if he was ashamed to admit where he lived. He pointed towards the grim towers at the end of the road, "There. Spinner's End. I guess we are neighbours, so I'll be seeing a lot of you, huh?"

Lily interjected, "Oh, darn, I should go check on Petunia. Hope she doesn't go into another one of her," she made a wrist-slitting motion, "fits." Lily skipped back towards the house.

Hermione and Severus were all alone, and the former was afraid that it was going to be awkward. However, she decided that befriending Severus might play a key part in preventing the Death Eater from ever becoming one in the future. She sat down on the grey-yellow grass, back leaning against the slope, grasping hold of Severus' wrist and pulling him down to sit next to her. "Why do you sound like you didn't want to tell me where you lived?"

"Are you new around here or what? Spinner's End's a slum. The lowest of the low. If the world was put through a sieve and the dregs collected, it'd be Spinner's End." Hermione was surprised by his eloquence.

"Lily told you I lived in an orphanage before! I know shit about slums. Who do you live with?"

Severus stared wistfully at the space between Hermione's hand and his. "I live with my mum. She can do special things. So can I."

That was fast, Hermione thought. It apparently did not take long for Severus to relieve himself of his secret. She pretended to not know what he was talking about, pretended not to know that he was a wizard. She cocked her eyebrow at him, "Special things? Like what?" Severus bristled at the opportunity to show off. He raised a hand to the willow tree above, and _like magic_, the tree shivered, bringing down a veil of snowflakes. Hermione smiled. She leaned towards him, warm breath ghosting his ear, "I can do it, too." Severus' eyes lit up.

Hermione waved her hands before her, and the fallen snow from the tree compressed into a human figure. She gestured towards the river of ice, and the snowman sauntered on the river like it was skating.

"One small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind." Severus whispered. Hermione knew that she'd hooked him. From that they on, they were to be friends. This perverse thought froze her brain as she glanced at the boy next to her, who was enraptured by the show.


	3. Hot-Tubbing

"Why do you suppose Tuney's so crabby to you, Sev?"

It was three days before Christmas: Lily, Hermione and Severus were seated in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa, stiflingly comfortable under a thick blanket. Petunia was away at Marge Dursley's house. Charles and Elizabeth were in London for a movie. Hermione had posed the question, having become so acquainted to Petunia as to be able to use her nickname, and Severus almost spat out the chubby pink marshmallow in his mouth. Lily's cocoa spurted out of her tiny nostrils and dribbled out of her mouth at Severus' reaction.

"It's because I have as much money as a rat, that insufferable cu-" Severus cut himself off, knowing that his outburst would only provoke the girls.

"Oh, but that's not your fault, is it?" Hermione snuggled her head into the nook of Severus' neck. "Would you ever hate anyone for something they couldn't choose?" She couldn't help but ask the question.

"Do I look like a bigot, Hermione?" Severus laughed. Hermione peered at him, as if she was trying to discern whether he did or not. She choked with laughter at the marshmallow mush in Severus' mouth.

Lily was just happy that the two were getting along like carrots and peas. "What do you two suggest we do this beautiful night?" The snow was falling hard, outside, and Lily wondered whether Petunia would be alright. Severus suggested practicing the _imperius_ curse on cockroaches, knowing that they as children would not be persecuted for using Unforgivable Curses. He had read about it in one of the many macabre books scattered around his house. Lily feigned gagging at the thought of playing with household pests like marionettes. Hermione seemed interested. It appealed to her sadistic side, and she hated cockroaches anyway.

"Come on, Sev, that's disgusting. Let's go out into the woods!"

"At night? Are you mental?"

"What, Sev, aren't you _man _enough?" taunted Lily. Hermione resented the sexist undertones of the question, but wanted Severus to go along with it, so she said nothing.

Thus, Severus found himself in the middle of the woods. "God, you two are mental. I can just _smell_ the werewolves." He sighed at having been tricked into coming.

"They do say werewolves can smell their own." Lily sniggered. Severus mumbled a swear and proceeded into the depths of the woods, glancing back ever so often at Hermione, who he had grown fond of. Hermione winked at Severus as she caught his glance, causing blood to rise and colour his deathly pallor.

The group traversed the landscape, stopping ever so often to marvel at unwitting animals and filling the air with lively song and chatter.

"What about this one, Sev? _Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been_-" Lily had inherited a love of The Beatles from her parents.

Severus stopped in his tracks and initially, the girls were alarmed. He twisted his head towards the moon and let out a howl, "_I look at all the lonely people,"_ and then turned towards the girls, "_I look at all the lonely people._" Hermione applauded with fervour as Lily let out numerous wolf whistles. The former could not believe that this boy grew up to be the Severus Snape, the very same Snape who had killed Dumbledore. It was ridiculous.

Their noise stopped when Severus did. Far in their midst shimmered something ethereal, something silver, moving. "What is it?" Lily whispered, and grabbed Hermione's hand, squeezing a little so that Hermione knew she was scared.

"It's… a unicorn." Hermione whispered back. She was as frightened as Lily was, but her hand reached for Severus' instead. The three moved closer towards the soft glimmer, and surely enough, it took the shape of a horse, except that it had a long, tapering point on its head. "Only the purest can touch a unicorn. Give it a go, Lily."

Lily's face was illuminated by the light that emanated from the creature. As she neared it, the unicorn turned, and its depthless black eyes bored into her. Hermione clasped Severus' hand, and he turned to look at her. "Reckon she'll be able to do it?"

"You think I'd send Lily in to be gored by a unicorn if I didn't think she could do it?"

Lily reached her hand out to the panting unicorn, which was grunting softly. It crept forward, and nuzzled her gently. She looked up at her two friends for reassurance.

"You don't think that horn's a little phallic?"

"Ever the sceptic, aren't you, Sev?" Hermione laughed. "Should we lead it back to the house? Give Tuney and the folks a little look-see?"

Lily shuddered at the thought of imprisoning the beautiful creature. "Don't! Leave it be."

The three headed back through the woods, disoriented from the encounter with the unicorn. Both the girls looked to Severus for leadership, who appeared to not know where he was going either.

Hermione was tired of the endless journey. "Oh my god, where the hell are we?"

"I don't know! Why am I the leader?!" whined Severus.

"There's a light right there, that must be the house." Lily ventured with quiet nerve. The contact with the unicorn seemed to have given her some sort of superhuman wisdom. True enough, there was a faltering light up ahead, that hinted at some form of civilisation, if not, another damn unicorn. They rushed towards the light, and were comforted by the familiar white clapboards. "Thank god! We're home!"

"Isn't your mum going to be worried?"

"She's usually home late. My mum's kind of a… lady-of-the-night."  
"What? Really?" Hermione couldn't help but gasp at this sudden revelation. Lily's reaction was similar.

"She uses magic to… entertain." Severus seemed to gulp down this fact with as much ease as swallowing castor oil. As they reached the house, Hermione and Lily enclosed him in a hug, as if it would relieve him of this excruciating detail.

Elizabeth rushed out of the backdoor, a ginger flurry, having spied the children's approach through the kitchen window. "No note, Lily? Where were you? You could have been killed! It's 12 in the morning!" She wore an aggrieved look on her face, though she appeared thankful that they at least came home safely. "You too, Hermione! I would've thought better of you!" Severus smirked silently, seeming pleased that he had escaped reprehension. "Charles is upstairs –get him to run a warm bath for you three. Severus, you should stay the night, it's a long walk to Spinner's End – I'll ring your mother."

The three weary children clambered up the stairs, exhausted from their adventure. "Dad! Run a bath, will you?" Lily's voice trailed down the corridor. They decided to rest in Lily's room while waiting for the hot water to fill the tub. Severus flung himself on the polka-dotted bedspread, while Lily wrinkled her nose at the sweaty boy contaminating her dwelling. "Come on, Sev; don't get your filthy coat all over my bed!"

Hermione intervened – "Lily, don't be so melodramatic," she planted a kiss on her new sister, "Sev, you can use my room. Come on." She gestured out of Lily's room and led the serious, black-haired boy down the corridor, into the exceedingly plain room in which she had woken up weeks ago.

"_This_ is where you sleep? It looks like _my_ room back home." Severus joked.

Hermione slapped him on the arm with a clean towel. "Take your clothes off, cover up with this, and use my parents' loo. It's down the hall. Say hi to Charles while you're at it, yeah?" She lay on the bed and covered her eyes with the backs of her palms, giggling. "I won't peek!"

"Hermione, I'm not going to get naked in your room _while you're here_." Severus was adamant about his genitalia's security.

"Don't be such a prude, will you? We're nine!"

"I'm almost ten, Hermione." Severus suggested feebly, which made the girl chuckle.

"Speaking of which, there are," Hermione counted on her fingers, "eighteen days till your birthday. What would you like?"

Severus sighed, and lay down next to Hermione, innocuous as their relationship was. "Don't get me a book – my mum usually gets me one for my birthday but it's usually shit because she doesn't know how to pick them out. She keeps all the good ones for herself."

"You don't trust that I can pick books better than your mum does?"

"I doubt so."

"Anything else you'd like?"

Severus sat up, face blushing again. When he blushed, it was the strangest thing. So pale Severus was, that he looked disturbingly rosy – the kind of rosy that fat German schoolboys were – whenever an onset of embarrassment occurred. "A kiss." he whispered with trepidation.

Hermione could not say that she was shocked. While she did not believe herself to be leading Severus on, she had to remember that she was only nine, and was not supposed to be treading into such dangerous waters. "Wait till the day comes, yeah, Sev?" She tried to leave it as ambiguous as possible, and walked out of the room, hoping to god that the bath water was ready.


	4. Christmas Day, 1969

Lily and Hermione watched their sister as she picked up a lipstick from the dressing table. Petunia hesitated for a second, looked at the wide mirror in front of her, and then put the lipstick down, choosing another one from a glass dish. It was a rich cherry red. It was also Christmastime. Elizabeth's plum pudding wafted up the stairs, throbbing with spices and warm fruit, mingling with Sunday Roast.

"Who're you getting all dolled up for, Tuney?"

Petunia smiled at the two younger girls, and then glanced back at her reflection, "It's a secret."

"Oh come on, we're gonna find out soon enough when he comes to the house!"

"And that's why you should just _wait_." She winked. The red lipstick looked superb. Petunia, for one day, elevated herself above her slightly cold exterior, and now radiated warmth. "Oh, alright. It's Vernon Dursley."

The younger ones groaned in unison. "He's shit, Tuney!" Lily cried. "You can tell he's the kind of tool who's going to swell up into a big wet shit once he gets old!"

"This is _why_ I didn't want to tell you two, I _knew _you guys were going to get all judgmental, like." Petunia's forehead creased into a sullen frown. It released when she realised they were right, but it was too late to change anything. "You two want any lipstick?" She enjoyed mothering the two kids, and the special occasion warranted some celebratory make-up. Lily and Hermione lined up before their sister, and she marked them with matching cherry red lips. "Now, say really good things about me at dinner and you two get two quid each, yeah?" They nodded like lambs. "It's not like I'm going to marry him, he's just coming over for some dinner. I'm not complaining about Snape coming, am I?"

The doorbell rang with fury. Would that be Severus or Dursley? The plump answer stood in a burnt orange suit, red necktie, comical cane in hand, twisting an imaginary moustache. Petunia rushed down the stairs, exclaiming, "Vernon!" as Lily stood aside, holding the door open. He was twelve years old, and that seemed distant, unimaginable, to a ten, nearly eleven year old girl. Elizabeth rushed in, welcoming the fattened ham to the dinner table. Hermione poked her head out the main door, and sure enough, Severus was running down the street, black suit and all, waving his hand to ensure that a place at the table was saved for him. By the time he reached the door, his forehead glistened with sweat and his nose was slick. Severus' hair was pomaded back into an Elvis-style bouffant, for the special occasion. Hermione smiled as he swung her into a bone-breaking hug. She hadn't forgotten what had happened three days earlier, but she had made sure to settle things with Severus.

The ground by the riverbank was even harder that day than the first time she had visited it. Hermione and Severus were inseparable, having spent almost every single day together since that very first day. He felt easy around her, easier than he had ever felt with Lily, and he was already rather relaxed around Lily. And he intrigued her. There was something of the tortured writer in him. Even as a child, lilac caverns lined his undereyes, combined with his paleness, he appeared as a spectre of sorts. It was the day after they had taken the trip into the woods. "I like you, Sev."

"Then why won't you kiss me?" They were holding hands, lying on the ground.

"Not now, we're kids. You know how babies are born?"

"My mum's a prostitute, I think I know how it's done."

"The right day will come along. And it'll happen when it happens."

"Why not now?"

"I like you too much. I can't ruin it when I'm nine."

"When _will_ you be old enough to ruin it with me?" Severus turned his head towards Hermione and smiled. It was so easy for children to be beautiful. "Because one day I'm going to marry you, Hermione Evans."

Her face broke apart into a smile as well. "One day I'm going to marry you, too."

At the dinner table, Vernon Dursley was introducing himself to the family. He had eaten a fair share of everything, and the buttons on his vest looked as if they were about to burst. He was boasting about how his father owned an average-sized biscuit factory in London, and their recent holiday to Spain. Petunia looked as if she was about to throw up, whether from too much food, or from the less-than-delightful conversation Dursley was treating everyone to.

"…and he has all these workers, and they have to listen to him, and it's just fab – really, he could tell them to do anything, and they'd have to, or," Dursley moved his chubby hand horizontally across his ruddy neck, "they're finished."

"Thank you, Vernon, for the story. Now – would anyone like more pudding? We've got treacle, too." Elizabeth had resolved to stay out of Petunia's affairs and disregard her bad taste.

Hermione leaned over to Petunia, "Ten quid – Vernon asks for more."

Petunia couldn't help letting out a snort as Dursley raised his hand and requested both pudding and treacle. Severus was tempted to hex him under the table, but Hermione saw his hand begin a gesture, and placed hers over it to stop him. Their eyes met and Hermione shook her head. _Not now_, she mouthed.

After dinner, the family convened in the living room to exchange gifts. The presents were piled up under the Christmas tree, stacks of gaudy red, green, yellow, blue. The girls scrambled to get theirs, reading the names on the wrappings, and tearing apart those which had their respective names on it. From their parents, Petunia was delighted to receive scores of twinkly dresses, Lily, five handmade porcelain dolls, and Hermione – exactly what she had asked for, The Complete Illustrated Works of William Shakespeare. Vernon Dursley presented Petunia with a "_One free kiss from Vernon Dursley_" coupon, which she reluctantly cashed in immediately – she knew she was never going to want to use it at any other time, and she might as well get it over with right away. Severus handed Lily an emerald package, and Hermione a burgundy one. "What is it, Severus?" Lily queried. Severus made a scratching movement, telling her to open it.

Lily and Hermione opened their presents: The former had received a gilded brooch, which resembled a dusty pink lily. The latter looked in the box, and her jaw dropped. She looked up at Severus to make sure she wasn't dreaming, and then back at the box – within, was a blood red rose-shaped locket, about an inch in diameter. Hermione opened the locket, in one side was a photo of herself and in the other, a picture of Severus, who, not being able to find a current photograph, used one of him at the age of five. She took the locket out of the box, and held in in the palm of her hand, it was weighty – hand-crafted. Hermione hung the locket around her neck, it swayed gently from side to side, on a fine silver chain. She couldn't help but tear up a little, and she hugged Severus tightly. He smelt of dead flowers and cemetery gates. "Merry Christmas, Hermione." He whispered.

At ten that night, Hermione walked Severus home, over the frozen river, snow on the trees sparkled in the moonlight.

"Do you have any other friends, besides us?"

"What, you mean… in school? I guess you'll see soon enough, when the Spring Term starts, yeah?"

"That's not answering my question."

"I don't think people like me very much."

Hermione laughed, her breath came out like wispy cotton candy in the cold. "Why's that? I think you're fab." She looked at Severus, whose hands were stuffed into his black coat. His hairdo had been mussed up by Hermione when she hugged him.

"They call me 'Snake' in school. Not very clever, the boys. A lot of them are concerned with football and sports and whatnot."

"You don't play football? What _a_ surprise, Sev!"

Severus elbowed her playfully. "I spend my recesses reading, or practising my magic in secret. It'll be nice that now I'll have somebody to do it with during." He smiled at her.

"You think I'll get along okay? In school, I mean."

"Please, Hermione, this is primary school. It's the least of your concerns. My mum told me about the school that people like us get sent to."

"People like us?"

"Wizards, witches. Ordinary people like your sister and your mum and dad are called muggles." Severus seemed to have accepted Charles and Elizabeth as Hermione's parents.

"God, that sounds ghastly. We don't have to call them that, do we?"

"Only if you want to. The school's called Hogwarts, and the principal's this bloke called Dumbledore. He sends magical boys and girls letters on their eleventh birthday."

"Are you excited about it? Going to Hogwarts? I suppose you'll be going, yeah?"

"Hell yes I'm excited." Severus grinned and looked up at the stars, "No more of this muggle shit."

It was the first time Hermione had heard Severus voice any negative opinion about muggles, and she was shocked. She knew all too well what it was like to be discriminated against, having been faced with blood discrimination from Draco Malfoy time and time again. "Sev, don't say that! You said it didn't matter the way someone's born!"

Severus knew that he had hurt Hermione, which was something he did not want to happen. "Sorry. I didn't mean it that way. All I meant was that no one understands magic in the muggle world. I can't wait till we're able to learn real spells and that. My dad never understood it. He left my mum when I was six, said he couldn't take being different from the two of us. He felt useless. Muggles can treat magic folk badly too, you know."

"I'm sorry. It must've been hard. You've got to be strong, Sev. You've got to look at both sides of the picture. Not all muggles, as you say, are great but not all of them are bad either."

They were nearing Spinner's end. A railing grew between the river and the backs of houses where it led. "Which one's your house?" Dim lights bloomed in each sooty window. Severus pointed at a faceless, nameless block five metres from where they were standing. He climbed over the railing and helped Hermione over it as well, after which he moved up the back stairs of the house. The doors were not locked. Hermione was curious as to why.

"My mum's not home, again, but we haven't got much to steal." The inside of the Snape house was musty, mouldy green wallpaper. The floor squelched beneath Hermione's footsteps. The back door led directed to the living room, which had a kitchenette in it. _No real kitchen_, _blindingly appropriate_, Hermione thought. Just a sink, counter, phone and microwave. The dining table was littered with cigarette butts and spellbooks. She picked one up, this having been the first time she had seen a spellbook since she had time-travelled. It was A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot. Hermione looked at it with nostalgia.

"Where did you get these?"

"My mum's. From her Hogwarts days."

Hermione put the book down. She had read it, at least ten times over before. "Can I see your room?"

Severus blushed. He twitched his head in the direction of the old, creaky stairs. "Watch yourself on the stairs. They're mingy as hell." The stairs led to an extremely narrow, brown carpeted corridor. There were three doors, one led to the master bedroom, another, the bathroom, and the last – Severus' bedroom. He stepped through a heavy oak door. It led to a stark room, single bed with coarse black sheets – black from not being washed, or otherwise, Hermione did not know. There was a bookshelf in the room, "My personal collection," Severus explained. Hermione was astounded. The collection was pristine, compared to the house's obvious indigence. Muggle books, too, not just magical ones. She ran her fingers over each and every books' spines, mouthing the titles and authors silently. "Would you like to stay over? It's half past eleven."

"It's a single bed."

"I won't touch you. I swear." Severus held his hands up in surrender, and Hermione thought he looked ridiculously charming as a young boy.

"All right. Wait here, I'll ring Elizabeth."

Severus sat on the bed, hands still up in the air.

Hermione rushed downstairs and made the phone call, assuring Elizabeth that she would be fine. Elizabeth was well acquainted with Severus Snape, and she trusted him. Hermione then rushed back up to her friend's room. "All done, Sev. I'm beat. Can we go to bed now?" She clambered onto the bed, where Severus had been waiting all the while.

"You don't want to stay up and have a chat?" He got up and turned out the lights, before returning to the bed and lying down. He patted the space beside him, signalling for Hermione to lie down. She did so.

"You aren't happy with just being next to each other? In silence?"

"I think I can give that a try." Severus hugged Hermione from behind, and turned her to look out the window adjacent to his bed. The stars were out, and for a moment, all the world seemed calm.


	5. Of Sweethearts and Birthdays

**note: thank you all so much for the reviews, it's really helping me get along with the story!**

Lily and Hermione sat in the living room, lit by the soft lamps to an amber glow, legs crossed, hunched over a piece of paper. "You really think he'll like it? He's going to be ten!" The two girls were concerned over Severus' tenth birthday plans. This was the first year they had ever celebrated his birthday, and it was all due to Hermione's increasingly close friendship with him. Lily enjoyed Severus' presence as well, but she wasn't as close to him as her adopted sister was. Hermione had spent much time with him. Some days, they spent reading quietly by the fireplace, some days travelling through the forest, some days making snow armies, but always, always together. She had grown used to his lank black hair, his perceptive eyes, his waxen skin – she rarely thought about the people in her past life anymore. It was as if they were dead, although she knew that it was just the opposite. Harry, Ron, Neville, Luna, they would all be born eventually, patience was key. Meanwhile, she had to live a new life, and she was trying to be content while doing so.

The girls had concocted a plan that they hoped would latch onto Severus' memory forever, and perhaps tide him by the lonely nights in Spinner's End, at least until they all went to Hogwarts together. Hermione had told Lily about Hogwarts, and they were both went through each day bursting with glee and excitement at the thought of being able to further their magical progress in just less than two years.

9th January was a chilly day. The past week's temperatures did not rise above zero. Severus' face was bitten by the cold as he made his way to the Evans house. Lily and Hermione had rung him on the telephone, telling him to come over right away, and that they had a surprise for him. Hermione's voice passed through the cables, and lodged in Severus' heart. He had read about love in books, not romance novels, but in encyclopaedias, and he knew that it would have been stupid to think that you would be able to find true love by the age of ten – but Hermione, this girl, Hermione. She was something else. Severus used to believe that Lily was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, before Hermione had joined the Evans family, but now the latter had taken her place. She had dragged him out of a dark, dark place and pulled him into the light with her kindness and acceptance. He knew that he had had a sub-par childhood, but Hermione's introduction into his life made everything better.

The house was almost invisible in the snow, and Severus' footsteps clattered on the shovelled cobblestone path that led up to the red door.

Lily and Hermione's ears pricked up at the sound of the doorbell. They pulled Severus through the front door, and out the back. "Where are you taking me?" He barely resisted their advances, trying to hide his excitement with a stoic expression. The three slid down the icy slope and crossed the frozen river, where a bridge was in the works for when the river melted in the spring. They headed into a clearing in the woods, where some sort of structure was covered by a red waterproof tarp, next to which Petunia stood.

"Hello, Snape."

"Evans."

"I'm doing this for them," Petunia nudged her head in the direction of the giggling girls, "and not for you."

Lily and Hermione crept under the tarp for two minutes, which Severus spent awkwardly trying to avoid Petunia's stony stare. One of the girls gave a whistle, which signalled for the older sister to pull off the tarp. Under it was a makeshift stage – the girls obviously had Charles' help – on which Hermione was perched. Lily crouched inconspicuously behind her. Petunia pressed the _play_ button on a mini-stereo and then left the woods, back to the house. Piano keys in a tinkly instrumental song escaped from the machine. Hermione strolled as casually as she could from the one end of the stage to the other. She had a black '60s girl-group-style beehive wig on, and so did Lily. They both had matching feather boas on. "What's going on? Hermione? Lily?" Severus was amused by the show, but he wanted to know what the get-up was for. Lily motioned for him to be patient.

Hermione cleared her throat. "_See the way he walks down the street, watch the way he shuffles his feet,_" she swayed her hips slowly, like a hula dancer, "_My, he holds his head up high, when he goes walking by…_" Pointing at the now-ten-year-old boy in the seat before her, Hermione sang, "_He's my guy,_"

Lily then sprung up from her hiding place and joined in, "_When he holds my hand, I'm so proud, 'cause he's not just one of the crowd. My baby's always the one to try the things they've never done, and just because of that, they say,_"

The duo chimed in together, arms spread out towards Severus, "_He's a rebel and he'll never ever be any good. He's a rebel 'cause he never ever does what he should, but just because he doesn't do what everybody else does, that's no reason why I can't give him all my love,_". Severus was now sitting with his head in his hands, laughing his eyes out. "_He's always good to me, always treats me tenderly, 'cause he's not a rebel, no no no. He's not a rebel, no no no, to me._" Their voices soared through the trees like birdsong, light and girlish, tickling Severus so that tears of laughter seeped out from him.

At the end of the song, Hermione conjured blue sparks each side of his chair, which almost caused him to fall out of it, which also caused Lily to convulse on the ground with mirth. The whole concert ended in all the children rolling about on each other in laughter, sparks literally flying everywhere.

Later, after the explosion of emotion had ceased, the three sat on the stage, watching the snowflakes start to spiral down from heaven. "You guys are the best." Severus chuckled, exhaling a deep breath that he had taken to savour the moment.

"I told you he'd like it, Lily!"

"I didn't say he wouldn't!"

Hermione collapsed on top of Severus, and they looked into each other's eyes, both smiling from ear to ear. Lily sensed she was intruding. "I'll just go in and prepare the cake. You two enjoy yourselves!" She winked at Hermione and made her way back to the house, soon leaving their sight.

"Now, how about that kiss, Hermione? It _is_ my birthday." Severus hadn't forgotten. Hermione moved her face closer to his, so that they were separated by no more than a centimetre of frosty air. Severus' eyes were expectant and longing. Hermione closed the gap between them, making sure that her lips were closed, keeping the kiss soft and chaste. His lips were smooth, and he held his hand close to her cheek, ghosting over it gently with his thumb. The electricity between the two built up, but Hermione dared not deepen the kiss, for fear of being inappropriate. It was Severus who chose to bite down on her bottom lip, drawing blood. Hermione pulled away, less in horror, more in shock, at seeing this dark side of Severus rearing up, after she thought that it had more or less dampened after they had become friends.

"Sev, wha-" She looked at him with a quizzical expression on her face, but she was interrupted by Severus placing his mouth over hers again, tasting her blood. She pulled away again, confused at what Severus was trying to do. "Who are you, Severus Snape?" Her lip was still smarting from the bite. She stared at him, and he stared back, eyes full of something that couldn't have been lust, he was too young. Or was he? There was something queer about Severus' expression – it was an adult expression, he was no longer a child. Just when she thought she understood him, another wall was broken down, and further depths were revealed.

"I'm in love with you."

"That's no reason to bite me!"

"Are you in love with me?"

"I love you, if that's what you're talking about."

"Do you love me like how I love you?"

Hermione was curious. "And how would that be?"

"I want to be next to you every moment of my life. It's ridiculous, I love you that much. I think about you every minute of every day, I can't read, or eat, or do anything. Every night I have to go home, and you don't stay over, it hurts, it hurts so much."

"How do you know how love feels, Sev?" Hermione knew that she didn't find love until she was sixteen, at least, with Ron, and even then it faded away eventually.

"I know how it feels, because I've met you."

Hermione was speechless. Here was Severus Snape, a ten year old boy, who spoke like a twenty year old. The hardest part about travelling back in time, and living life as a child all over again, was having to stay in character, was having to forget everything, forgetting spells, forgetting libidos, forgetting life in Hogwarts, forgetting what it was like to go to bed with someone, forgetting all the things you wanted to do but couldn't because of your age. There were so many things she wanted to tell Severus, but they would have to wait, and the pressure was slowly starting to get to her.

"I… I can't do this. We can't do this." Hermione began crying, shuddering big, baby tears. Severus recoiled at what he had done, but inched closer after half a minute spent paralysed by shock.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He was now holding her in his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He muttered uncontrollably, "I won't do it again. I won't, I won't." Hermione shook her head, still nuzzled in his neck.

"It's just- I have so many things I want to tell you, but they're… They're stuck. Will you wait for me, Sev? If I wait for you, will you wait for me?"

Severus nodded his head. He knew what he wanted, undeniably and unequivocally, he would do anything for Hermione. "Yes. Yes, I'll wait for you."

"Lily must be worried, let's head back." It pained Hermione to have to have to steer the topic away, but there was no other way to break the tension. The two children held hands as they walked back to the white house that they'd forgotten all about for half an hour.

Lily was _not_ worried about the two. She was well aware of Severus' undying love for Hermione, which she found rather amusing as he had only known her for a month. Nevertheless, this did not discredit Severus' feelings, in her opinions, and she knew that he would be able to take care of her. She took his cake out of the refrigerator and placed it on the countertop. It was a white-frosted yellow sponge affair that she and Hermione had lovingly baked the day before. Soon, the two missing children passed through the back door. Hermione had to visit the bathroom, so Severus was along with Lily in the kitchen.

"How'd it go, Sev?"

"What?"

"You know what I mean!"

"She's stuck, she says. I can't live without her, Lily. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Yeah, Hermione's a little odd in that way. It's like she's beyond her years. I'm perfectly happy playing with my dolls, but she's always reading or writing or doing something horribly intelligent."

Severus nodded. He was not oblivious to Hermione's astonishing intelligence and knowledge, which was a definite result of her extra years on the earth. "She doesn't seem to think that children ought to fall in love."

"You think we can fall in love? I would have thought crushes were all we had."

At that very moment, Hermione entered the room. She smiled at the two and then looked over the cake. "It's beautiful, if I do say so myself. Happy birthday, Sev." Lily said the same. Severus looked pleased, it had clearly been the first time he had had such an eventful birthday. Hermione and Lily pulled their presents out from where they had been hidden – a cupboard below the sink. Lily's present, as Severus would discover when he opened it, was _An Idiot's Guide to Making Friends_, with a handwritten note under the cover – "_For the new term. Happy tenth birthday and good luck – one of your two only friends, Lily_", scrawled with a tiny doodle of a lily.

Severus smiled. "I'm _definitely _going to get use out of this." He lamented sarcastically. "Thanks loads, Lily." He had the grace to look grateful about a joke present.

Hermione handed him the present she had gotten him, and she bit her lip, hoping that he would like it. Severus clinically removed the wrapping, as if he was saving it for something, and was confronted with a foot-long black velvet box. He looked at Hermione with curiosity, and then back at the box, which he opened guardedly, as if he had been bullied so much he couldn't trust that anything within a box wasn't dangerous. Hermione nudged him, egging him to go on. Severus opened the box, and in it was a book, as well, but it was crafted with incredible detail, in comparison to Lily's store-bought present. Lily looked peeved at her sister's betrayal – they were supposed to have similar presents so that there was no competition. The book was bound with dark green leather with a black spine and had Severus' name engraved on the cover. He flipped through the book, and its creamy ivory pages were blank. "Hermione, what is this?"

"It's a diary. I thought that you needed something in which you could write down what we'd be doing in the years to come." Severus smiled, and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

"Look at the last page, silly."

Severus flipped to the back of the book, where Hermione had left him a message: "_I hope you find this journal useful. You always have so much to say, and I thought you should put it down somewhere. You're so special, and I want you to know how much I value you as a friend, and as a person. We'll grow old together, Sev, and this marks the first of many birthdays we'll celebrate with each other. Love, Hermione_"

At that moment, Severus was filled with a love for the girl beside him that surpassed whatever he thought he felt an hour before. He also felt an onset of tears that he willed back, hoping not to show vulnerability to the girls, the only people who he believed respected him. He made an attempt to turn the attention away from him by gesturing towards the cake. "Isn't it time to blow out the candles?" Lily searched for a lighter in a drawer and brought it back to the counter, where she lit the ten candles she had stuck into the cake while Hermione and Severus were having their emotional present-opening moment. She did, admittedly, feel a little left out, but she knew that her time would come eventually. To her, Severus was fab, and Hermione was fab, and she knew that it was not her part to come between them.

Severus stood before the cake, glances from the girls indicated that it was time for him to make a wish. He stared long and hard at Hermione, who looked at him, as equally intense, and they both knew what his wish would be.


	6. Strawberry Popsicles

**note: I get how it must feel to want to see what happens in Hogwarts, but patience, readers! This isn't just a story, it is also a project of mine to try to recreate the whole atmosphere of the '70s through literature. Hermione, Lily and Severus will get to Hogwarts within the next... three chapters, I suppose. Sit tight!**

It was the 15th of June, and England was deep into the summer. Temperatures neared 35 degrees, and the fields withered into golden stalks by the sides of dry, dusty roads.

The younger Evans sisters were pleased with the heat. They were sunning themselves in the front yard, being baked a glimmering brown on the yellowed grass of the front yard. Lily wore a robin's egg blue one-piece, and Hermione was in a muted chartreuse bikini. The two girls were twiggy as ever, flat-chested enough so that their bathing suits did not look vulgar. The sun had dotted each girl with terracotta freckles that rivalled the number of stars in the Milky Way.

Ten weeks after Hermione had travelled back in time, she was legally adopted by the Evans family, who were confused by her lack of identification – she was not even in government records. Technically, she did not exist. Charles and Elizabeth had to register Hermione as a British citizen again, and then signed her up at Cokeworth Primary, which was a twenty minute walk from her house. Her first day of school was difficult. Hermione had not interacted with ten year old kids besides Lily and Severus, and the diversity of personalities spun her head. She was more than capable of handling the workload – it was so easy it was laughable, really. The actual problem was having to not get perfect scores for everything, which would certainly raise suspicions. Hermione's perfectionist nature occasionally impeded this. Lily and Severus were both in her class, and the three friends sat at the back of the room, engrossed in their own conversations. Lily made friends easily due to her everlasting gregariousness, but Hermione and Severus were often caught up in their own world, which other children were afraid of penetrating. The boy's love had been blanketed somewhat, he had learned to control his tumultuous emotions.

Sweat beaded on the girls' bodies, and the heat coaxed a thought out of Hermione, which she voiced absentmindedly, "Do you realise that Sev gets kind of weird when there are boys around him? When we're talking amongst ourselves and boys from school start coming closer, he gets really-"

"Distant?"

"Exactly! You think he's trying to show off?"

"Yeah, I guess. He doesn't look like the show-off type, does he?"

"You know appearances lie. I wish he wouldn't be like that, though. He's so much better than them."

Lily propped herself up on her side, and gazed at Hermione through half-lidded eyes, burdened with the weight of the blinding sunlight. "You think so? He's still hopelessly devoted to you, you know."

"Oh my god, don't talk about that! Don't bring it up again!"

"And why not?"

"I don't want to think about him like that anymore, you know?"

"He told me he thinks that you think that it's weird for kids to be in love."

"It _is _weird! I love him, but he's so intense and that intensity belongs in adult relationships. I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore!" Hermione sighed. It had been at least five months since Severus' profession of love, and she was _still _confused about what to do, or even what to think.

"What, you can't _handle _the intensity?"

"It- it's so strange to see it coming out of a ten year old boy! God, Lily, you'll only understand once you experience something like this."

"At least he's not coming over today. I guess you'll just have to jump that bridge tomorrow!"

Hermione sighed again. "Why don't you have these shitty problems?"

"That's because, my dear sister, I keep it nice and simple. Don't ever get too close to anyone, or you'll end up like…Well, you. You can have friends, but never _best _friends."

"That sounds awful, Lily! You're just going to go through life without best friends? What about Severus and I? Aren't we your best friends?"

"Well, maybe you are, but not Severus. I like him enough, but not as much as _you_ like him." Lily giggled.

"Keep up like that, and you're going to end up like _Tuney_." Hermione whispered the last word, and who should emerge from the front door but the one mentioned? "Speak of the devil!"

Petunia stormed over to where the two girls lay in wait, evidently, she had been eavesdropping. "You little bitch!" she hissed, "You think you're so great just because you have that little bum of a friend."

Lily stood up. She only reached Petunia's shoulder, and had to tip her head up just to make eye contact with her glowering sister. "Don't pick on Hermione, it was a private conversation! You had no right to eavesdrop, anyway."

"She's not even part of our real family, Lily! What the hell do you think you're doing, defending her and that?"

Lily had grown protective of Hermione. They were close enough to make fun of and insult each other, and thus Petunia's comments infuriated her. Lily's hair started twitching, static frizzing up ice blue at the ends. Her older sister stepped backwards in shock. "What's happening to your hair?!"

"Hermione and I can do things to you, Tuney. Don't you try to pick on us just because we're younger than you!"

"Do what? What the _hell _are you talking about? How did you do that?!"

"We're magic, Tuney." It was the first time she had told anyone in the family about their magical ability. It felt good, though foreboding. Hermione nodded her head at Lily's statement.

Petunia's eyes widened. "You two are _mental_." She threw her hands in the air and returned to the house.

Hermione looked grateful that Lily stood up for her. She appreciated how accepting beautiful Lily regarding her adoption. "You're the best, Lil. I'm going down the road. Need to clear my head. Tell mum and dad if they ask."

Hermione wrapped the bathrobe that she had been lying on around herself and headed towards Spinner's End. While the slum was filthy and frightening, it possessed the nearest shops from her house – not even good shops, but she would take what she could get. Hermione admired summer's ripe handiwork in the fields, she and Lily both preferred the hotter months, Severus preferred the cold ones; he said they made him feel like Fitzgerald. That comment had made Hermione snicker, her best friend was one of the few people who was capable of entertaining her.

She headed into a brick-walled store, with a once-golden sign reading, "_Proctor & Sons General Store, since 1950_" hanging above a tattered wooden doorway. Proctor & Sons was Hermione's favourite cornerstore. There were two more down the road, but the owners were oily middle-aged men who leered at her through beady black eyes, and the patrons – spindly, itching drug-dealer types. The cornerstore she had entered was close enough to the good side of Cokeworth to not be affected by Spinner's End's pestilent fly-ridden disease.

The inside was lined with bright canned goods, and close to the window display of fresh fruit was an ice-box full of frozen treats. Hermione thought that a popsicle would be a good idea for the scorching day. She looked in the ice-box – strawberry, grape, orange. Hermione had a thing for strawberry, and she reached down to the bottom of the box to pick the coldest popsicle, after wards heading to the counter with 50 pence in her hand. The boy at the counter looked slightly older than eleven, had sandy blond hair and watery, pale blue eyes. He smiled at Hermione as she approached him with the money.

"I've never seen you here before." She thought that the boy was cute. It was strange to think that little boys were cute, but handsome was handsome at any age, and his straw-like hair glistened with the lights they caught. He reminded her of Ralph, from William Golding's Lord of the Flies: '_He was old enough, twelve years and a few months, to have lost the prominent tummy of childhood; and yet not old enough for adolescence to have made him awkward.'_

"The name's Ewan. I just started working here for my pa. He's Proctor, and I'm one of the "_& sons_". You here for something specific, beautiful?" His eyes were big and fanned with long, dark lashes, full of confidence.

She placed the strawberry popsicle and money on the counter. "I'm Hermione."

"You heading anywhere special after this, Hermione?" He said with a half grin, exposing two big, pearly white front teeth.

Was he asking her out? She was unsure. She remembered her deal with Severus, to wait till both were old enough that his advances wouldn't make her uncomfortable. Surely it wouldn't be wrong to simply take a walk with Ewan.

"I was planning to take a walk by the river. Don't you have to watch the shop?"

"My brother'll handle it fine." Ewan turned around and poked his head through the beaded curtain that separated the store from the back room, "Oi! Murray! It's your turn, watch the counter, willye?" He smiled at Hermione again, and placed the money back in her hand. "It's on me, love. Shall we?" Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her out of the shop and into the steaming streets. Outside, the tarred roads were like barbecue grills. Hermione could feel her rubber sandals melting with each step she took. The two reached the river, which was by summer fully unfrozen, and rushing with unrestrained fury. The water was two metres deep and a clear, pristine indigo. "You live in Spinner's End?"

Hermione laughed, "Nope, my house is down the road from here. I've never seen you at Cokeworth Primary either. You not a school-goer?"

"Heh – yeah, my attendance's been pretty spotty. Most days I spend in abandoned buildings."

"Ha, what? Why would you prefer abandoned buildings to school?" Hermione was intrigued. Perhaps Ewan was more than just a pretty face.

"Yeah, you see in school, they tell you what to do all the time, and shite like that-"

"Shite? Are you Irish?"

"My pa's side's from Scotland. Anyway, in school you get told what to do, what to think, what to see. In buildings where there's nowt around, no one living in them and that, you can pretend that you don't have to take responsibilities, yeah? You can pretend you're the only person left in the world."

"That's brilliant! You're one of a kind, know that, Ewan?" The popsicle stained Hermione's lips a bright red.

"You want to come with me one day?"

"I'm not going to skip school!" Even after time travelling, she remained an unabashed swot.

"Come on, live a little, Hermione! It'll be a great day – we'll pack a lunch and everything, you could be my missus!"

Hermione blushed. She knew Ewan did not mean it literally, but the word _missus_ caused her to wince in memory of Severus. She wished that her best friend had less of a grasp over her mind. "But you don't even know me, Ewan! How d'you know I'm not a psycho killer?" She also tried not to look into Ewan's eyes – which were luminous in their transparency, she could have gotten lost within them. His laugh, which he produced in reaction to her question, was a low chuckle, gravelly and disembodied.

"A pretty gal like you? I doubt so. Even if you disembowelled me, it'd be a nice way to die, I'd think." He winked, and the jauntiness of his every step, his self-sure Scottish cockiness – he sure was worlds apart from any boy she had ever met.

Hermione was torn. _This wasn't a betrayal of Severus, was it?_ "God… Alright then. Not on a school day, though. I'm free all summer." She pointed at her house which they were nearing, "That's where I live. Pick me up, yeah?"

"Which one's your window, love? I'll shimmy right up – we won't wake your ma and pa."

"No need for all the secrecy, Ewan. Ring the damn doorbell." She smirked and ran towards the back door, turning around once to look at the charming, older boy, who stood kicking the pebbles on the riverbank, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Hermione entered the kitchen, where she caught Elizabeth and Lily spying at Ewan. "Who's the non-Severus boy, Hermione?" Her mother asked.

"It's… He works at the cornerstore in Spinner's End. Isn't he cute?"

"I bet! Severus isn't going to be happy about this, though." Elizabeth had been informed of the boy's insane love for her daughter by Lily.

Hermione looked at Lily through slit eyes. "Oh come on, Lily, now you're telling everybody?"

"It's not my fault! It was so damn obvious! I don't think you should let him control what you do, however. You're your own person! You don't have to stop making friends with boys just because he pledged his undying love to you!"

"Lily's right, love, you two are far too young to be pledging yourselves to each other!" Elizabeth chimed in helpfully.

Hermione nodded her head, but swore silently that she would not let Ewan get the better of her. She was about to have control of the situation this time, or so she hoped.

The next day, Hermione was awoken at ten in the morning by a vigorous knocking. It was the front door. _Not Ewan, not Ewan, not Ewan,_ she muttered. She opened the door to a bright-eyed and bushy tailed… Severus Snape? "My, you're in a good mood, aren't you?" She had never seen him this alert -looking.

"It's an exquisite day, Hermione, let's go for a swim. What do you think?"

"Oh my god, Sev, I'm barely awake. What is _up_ with you? Are you high or something?"

"I missed you! I didn't see you the whole of _yesterday_!" He stressed the last word, making it seem as if one day was a terribly long time to be apart from Hermione. To him, it was an eternity.

"Fine, fine. I'll change into my bathing suit." She felt a little guilty about taking that walk the day before. It had been so nice, but the fact was Hermione did not think she needed more than one boy to worry about.

Severus and Hermione floated face-up, arms outstretched in the fresh, cold water of the river. It was cooler in the morning than in midday, but the water still felt delightful to the children. They had dived in to relish the icy shock, him – a cannonball, she – graceful as a swan.

"What did you do yesterday, Hermione?"

"It is absolutely important for you to know?"

"Well, no, but – I was interested. Honest, I'm not prying or anything. Really!"

"What'd you do? You go first!"

"Well – I wrote in the diary you got me."

"Glad to see you're using it. What'd you write about?"

"Wait a minute-" He turned around to face the woods, apparently he was attempting a dramatic answer. Hermione laughed. She loved this side of Severus. Suddenly, something caught her eye. It was a boy, standing at the edge of the river. _Shit_, she thought, _it was Ewan_. He waved at her excitedly. _No_, she mouthed, _not now_. Ewan tilted his head to one side, confused. _Please, not now,_ Hermione continued, her hands clasped together like she was pleading with him. Severus was still turned to the woods, fiddling with something about his face. Ewan turned back and started walking back towards Spinner's End dejectedly, head bowed low. Hermione's heart broke.

"Look!" Severus yelled. He had arranged his long wet hair so that it plastered over each side of his brow-ridge and upper lip, in a comical representation of a pair of bushy eyebrows and an equally bushy moustache. In his right hand he held a chubby twig like a cigar, and puffed on it, "I could dance with you until the cows come home. On second thought, I'd rather dance with the cows till you come home."He had recently watched the Marx Brothers' _Duck Soup_, and was impersonating Groucho Marx's character, Rufus T. Firefly. "It was one hell of a movie, Hermione. I'll tell you – I was trying to write a movie just like that."

Hermione tried to laugh as realistically as possible. He was entertaining, but at the moment, she wasn't keen to laugh. A dilemma at the age of nine. _Spectacular._

**note: Hopefully, this chapter helped you guys see that it's not all candy and roses with Severus! Also, I tried to slip in some Scottish slang into Ewan's speech. nowt = nothing, shite = shit, etc. **


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